With a toss of her chin, she pivoted and began walking down the path that led away from the house, the cant of her head indicating he should follow.
Back turned to him, Isla didn’t see his wide grin or the happy lift in his chest.
Tavish rushed after her.
22
Isla’s pace didn’t falter as Tavish fell into step beside her.
But then, she mused, he had never been one to deliberate. Quick to action. That was Tavish Balfour.
She had decided to prolong their walk for one simple reason:
Isla wanted to knowthisman—the person her erstwhile husband had become. Perhaps the man he had always been, and she had simply been too young, too inexperienced, too . . .somethingto see it.
After studying him over the past several days—listening to his friends speak of him, watching him interact with others, and the ready admiration he inspired—a dreadful curiosity had lodged in her soul.
Yes, they were both still intent on divorce. But that didn’t mean Isla couldn’t learn more about the experiences that had formed his character these past seven years. If nothing else, she and he had once been friends. And she wanted to know more about her friend before he disappeared forever into the wilds of America.
They walked in silence for a few minutes. Like herself, Isla could practically feel Tavish churning with questions he evidently refused to ask.
“We were speaking of you,” she said into the quiet.
“Pardon?”
“I suspect you wish to know what Colonel Archer and I were discussing. The answer, it turns out, is you.”
“Ye were discussing me? Why?”
Isla spared him an amused glance. “Our Colonel Archer is quite sure you hang the moon. He admires you greatly.”
She didn’t miss Tavish’s wince.
For her part, Isla couldn’t help but compare the two men.
Yes, they were both handsome in their way. Colonel Archer with his ready smiles and kind eyes that glinted with good humor. Tavish with his rugged jaw and quiet, looming presence.
But in other ways, the difference was stark.
Colonel Archer was careful in his pursuit of her—flirtatious but cautious. He treated her like a prized orchid, something with a fussy temperament that had to be kept in a well-regulated glasshouse. A delicate creature.
Tavish, however . . .
In many ways, being around Tavish was like stepping into a forgotten room in her soul—a place of sunshine and security she had once reveled in dwelling. There, Isla was accepted precisely as she was, and perhaps more importantly, as she wished to be.
But outside that room, he felt like a stranger.
The paradox of him overwhelmed her. Known, yet unknown.
That terrible grief bucked again—sorrow and betrayal she thought long dead and buried alongside the girl she had been. Emotions she had supposed her time at Malton Hill had healed.
“What did Fletch have to say about me?” Tavish asked. “He exaggerates, I assure ye.”
Isla shook her head. “You do realize that comments like that only confirm his high opinion, not lessen it?”
“Fletch has the incredible gift of seeing the best in people. He inspiresfierce loyalty. It’s what made him such a tremendous commanding officer in the army, and why he counts so many of us as his closest friends.”
“Well, he spoke at length about your bravery.”
